


An Unspoken Apology

by Semoka



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s01e06 Rare Species, Geralt Apologizes, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22142359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semoka/pseuds/Semoka
Summary: It's been nine months since that day on the mountain. Geralt finds Jaskier and apologizes in his own way.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, could be read as shippy or gen
Comments: 30
Kudos: 948





	An Unspoken Apology

**Author's Note:**

> welp, i'm in this hell hole now. time to drag you all down with me.
> 
> not explicity shippy but i wrote it with that in mind
> 
> Also Posted on Tumblr @geralthastwohands so if you like this please please please check me out over there!!

“You’ve all been absolutely wonderful,” Jaskier calls out to the crowd. He takes a peek down at the thrown coins littering the stage. “And so wonderfully generous, but this bard must take his rest.” He sighs out and lets his shoulders slump. His words are met with loud noises of disproval from his drunken crowd. 

“C’mon, bard, one more song to send us off proper!” A man cries out. Many others cheer him on and lift their drinks in agreement.

Jaskier makes a show of tilting his head back and forth in consideration. He’s played all the songs he knows by heart. All except two. One that he hasn’t played since the hunt for the dragon. The other he plays for his ears only when the nights are dark and lonely and his only company is a warm fire.

“Oh, alright, but only for such a lively bunch as yourself! Don’t go spreading word of this encore to other taverns or they’ll think I’m playing favorites.” Jaskier teases, winking at a busty barmaid who’d been watching him more closely than the others. Perfect for getting his mind off of this all after he finishes his last tune. She cheers the loudest when he brings up his lute to play once more. “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher, sing along if you know it!”

As he strums the opening chords, the door opens and heavy steps make their way in. Jaskier ignores the sound in favor of the laughing and clapping patrons he’s already grabbed the rapt attention of. It’s not until he turns to the barmaid once more that his voice falters. 

Geralt. Ale in hand and watching him sing his song.

Gods, he wishes the man was easier to read. Geralt’s expression is as blank as ever but his eyes hold so much weight to them. Jaskier thinks he sees a layer of golden guilt brush the surface and cold satisfaction runs through him.

 _Good,_ he thinks. _Feel guilty. Feel every bit of pain I felt._ He doesn’t truly wish Geralt any pain, but to see even the slightest crack in his so carefully constructed mask of no emotion...

The crowd has moved forward in the song without his voice leading them, his fingers moving on the lute through pure muscle memory. The Witcher looks away first.

Jaskier turns back to the crowd to finish out the song with a fake smile. The crowd claps and applauds and more coin is thrown to the stage. He bows in silent thanks as his throat seems to have closed up. He quickly collects his coin in his sack and straps his lute to his back. All thoughts of the busty barmaid were forgotten in favor of cat eyes and silver hair. 

“You still sing about me.”

_Speak of the Devil,_ Jaskier thinks. He turns, slowly, and there is Geralt of Rivia standing right behind him. “What can I say,” His voice lacks the bitterness he wants it to have. “You’re great at making me coin.”

If you had asked Jaskier nine months ago, when Geralt’s words were still fresh in his head and heart, what he’d do if they met again, “Beg him to take me back,” would have been the response. If you asked him three months ago, “Take a dagger to him.” would have been the response. Hurt settled into anger like an old friend, over time. He thought of several different things Geralt would say to him and every insult and curse he’d hurl back.

No words come forth.

Jaskier looks away first this time. “If you’ve tracked me down to apologize, just staring at me isn’t doing anything,” He starts because the silence is squeezing too tight. “Yes, I still sing about you. Even wrote a brilliant song about the valiant dragon-slaying - once I got the story for the dwarves. Never sang it more than once but-”

“I didn’t.” Geralt interrupts gruffly. Jaskier shuts his mouth and frowns at him. 

“Didn’t what? Come to apologize? Not that I expected one from Mr. Petty Squabbles of Men’.” 

“Didn’t slay the dragon. It was already dead.” Geralt finishes. The witcher looks dazed but Jaskier barrels forward. The patrons have begun to watch the spectacle.

“Oh, well that’s even better! All that climbing and emotional trauma for fuck all!” He shouts. “And still not an apology might I add-

“Jaskier.” Geralt breathes out. One word and the bard’s breath gets taken away. His throat closes like Geralt wished it. Again. “ _Jaskier_.” He says again, bordering on a prayer.

“This is wrong,” Jaskier chokes out. “You’re the White Wolf. You’re a _Witcher._ You’re not supposed to come here and say my name like that, like you care. _You have no right_ to act like you need me now.” His tears are hot with anger as he shoves Geralt back a step.

The crowd collectively lets out a gasp. No smart man lays a hand on a Witcher and expects to have it any longer. Not even if that witcher was a friend to humanity, as the song claimed. Even Jaskier’s eyes widen as if he can’t believe what he’s just done.

Geralt lets out a low growl from deep in his chest. Jaskier tenses and squeezes his eyes shut, knowing he’s pushed the Witcher too far. Expected too much.

A loud thump echoes through the silent tavern and the patrons explode into loud whispers. 

_What’s he doing then?” “I don’t know!” “Didn’t expect that from a Witcher.”_

Jaskier opens his eyes.

Geralt was on his knees before him, in front of a full tavern. The witcher - his witcher - was kneeling on the ground with his head tilted back to look up at his bard. Throat bared and hands limp at his sides. Jaskier could take his dagger across his neck right now. He gets the feeling Geralt would let him.

He sees the display for what it is. No words are spoken, but Jaskier nods.

“Apology accepted, Geralt.” He whispers. He takes a moment to wipe his tears and smile, genuinely smile, before sinking back into the role of the best friend. “Alright, everyone, shows over!” He speaks to the crowd which scatters back to their seats. “Now get off your the floor, you beast. Honestly, with the amount of filth on any given plank in here we could build a snowman made out of grime. And speaking of filth, your hair, Geralt! When’s the last time you took a bath?!”

They don’t speak much that night as they bathe and get ready for bed. Geralt was never much of a talker and Jaskier feels he’s talked enough, for once. The witcher worries that his apology wasn’t good enough. That Jaskier’s forgiveness was a show for his loyal audience. That he can never fix what he said.

But then Jaskier looks at him with those blue eyes and tells him to “Get in the bed, you big oaf, it’s big enough for two.” And Jaskier runs his fingers through his hair and hums out his song. 

And Geralt knows it will be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> #SoftBoyGeraltRights
> 
> (know that things did not heal in a day. they still argue and bicker and geralt sometimes says things he doesn't mean because he's angry and jaskier sometimes doesn't know when to let geralt have his silence. but they know how to apologize and come back together now, and that's what truly matters.)
> 
> Find me on tumblr @geralthastwohands for more witcher stuff (Im taking requests) or @semoka for everything else


End file.
